


a name, a word, a story

by hopefulundertone



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 13:27:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2111613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopefulundertone/pseuds/hopefulundertone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor tells River his name. Canon-compliant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a name, a word, a story

**Author's Note:**

> This is generally a long ramble about the Doctor telling River his name.

He tells her his name. He never meant to, really. It held too much to share with anyone, but River wasn't just anyone. The Doctor knows he has to, eventually, or his past self will never trust her. But he holds it off for as long as he can, and she never asks. What use do they have for names? River, Melody, Mels, the Doctor, Theta, John. They use them and they discard them, sometimes holding them out proudly as they would a badge or a weapon, "River Song. Archaeologist." or "I'm the Doctor." Sometimes hiding and disguising themselves, "Mels Zucker. Amy Pond's best mate," or "John Smith. Chief Inspector." 

Regardless, he does tell her. On a starry night beneath the wide open sky, he finally says it, whispering it into the curly blond mane of her hair as they recline in a park. It isn't a special night, or perhaps it is special simply because it is so peaceful, no running or fighting, it isn't the first time they meet nor the last, and he thinks it fitting. He can't remember which park, nor which planet, but he does feel the ground tremble a little, and River shivers. She turns to him, wraps her arms around him and holds him close, as the word resonates throughout the galaxy, so indescribable that nobody can remember it. Nobody but whom it was meant for. River doesn't ask him to say it again, it would be cruel. So she just listens silently as a single word, telling the tale of a boy and his friendships and his planets and his journeys and adventures and things he saw and things he didn't and somewhere early on a blue box comes into the story, because that's what it is, a story.

She listens as his hearts are broken over and over, she listens as he hurts and he loses and he repairs himself, fixes himself, but never quite the same again, always a little different, a little darker, like a patchwork quilt fraying. You sew it up as best as you can, but sometimes that isn't enough. Little specks of people come into the story, little specks that are giants, who help to fix him and show him the world and make sure he isn't alone.

And she can feel under the word that is a story of a life, of his life, his mind is thrumming, evolving and growing with everything he sees. She can feel his knowledge and everything that he truly is and all in one word, all in his name. There is silence for a while after he says it. She knows that if she had been fully human, she wouldn't have understood a thousandth of what she had just heard. She knows that she still understands the bare surface of a hundredth of what she just heard. She knows that the word stretches her Time Lord mind to the bursting.

And she is sorry. She is sorry for the few persons who have ever heard that name, because it is imprinted on her hearts now, it is burned into her memory. She looks at the Doctor and she knows him. She hears the call of Gallifrey, red hills and silver trees, shining star of the seven systems. She can feel the huge gash that is the Time War in his life that bleeding poison into his days and nights, but also how he repaired himself. She aches for his losses, smiles for his triumphs, regardless how small, and she knows the Doctor. She knows her Doctor, and she loves him. This is the knowledge she carries into the library and doesn't carry out. And as the screwdriver stutters, her data relay almost spent, she whispers it one last time, and she is home.


End file.
